


i've never been so scared

by tofugumball



Series: Navigate This Maze [2]
Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catholic Guilt, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Tenderness, except its 4+1 sorry, theyre both happy in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofugumball/pseuds/tofugumball
Summary: “It won’t be long now,” Peter is saying to Nadia. “The whole reality of high school is that eventually everything is going to change.”Jason stares at the floor and keeps breathing.or,four times Jason is terrified and one time he finds peace.
Relationships: Jason McConnell/Peter Simmonds
Series: Navigate This Maze [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608076
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	i've never been so scared

**Author's Note:**

> title, to no one's surprise, from "Bare"
> 
> thank u so much to the loml emmie for proofreading!!
> 
> most of this fic takes place before the events in "i've never been this bare" while the last segment takes place a few years after them, which makes this both a prequel and a sequel, i guess. you can read it as a stand-alone as well, though!

i.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand... this holy shrine, the gentle sin is his-“

“This.”

“Is _this_. My lips, two blushing pilgrims- god, this is ridiculous,” Jason groans and rolls his head to the side, sticking his nose in Peter’s ribs.

“My lips, two blushing pilgrims,” Peter repeats, unfazed, and squirms away from Jason’s face. “Also, that tickles.”

“Ugh. My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, to-“ Jason sneaks a glance at the script, “to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. There, happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Peter says dryly.

“Come on, we deserve a break. We’ve been at it for _hours_ ,” Jason whines, pushing his script onto the floor and throwing an arm over Peter’s waist, pulling him closer.

“It’s been like, half an hour, tops,” Peter counters, but he lets Jason put his copy of the script away and settle down on top of him with a contented sigh.

They lie together in silence for a long moment, Jason dozing as Peter cards his fingers through his hair.

“Does it bother you that I have to kiss Ivy?” Jason mutters after a while.

“No,” Peter answers, his fingers stilling; he sighs. “A bit,” he admits.

“Sorry.” Jason reaches blindly for Peter’s arm and tugs; Peter gets the hint and resumes stroking his hair.

“Not your fault,” he says, “though _she_ could at least try and pretend that it’s not her biggest dream come true.”

Jason huffs, amused. It’s a long-standing argument between them; Peter insists that Ivy is in love with Jason and Jason insists that Peter’s either delusional or paranoid; Ivy could have any guy she wanted, and she never seeks his attention like some of the other girls do.

But he’s not in the mood for arguing, so he lets it go, reaching for Peter’s hand again instead. He brings it down to his eye level and pulls up the sleeve; Peter lets him, dropping his head back on the pillow. He’s relaxed, breathing calmly as he lets Jason count the cuts on his forearm.

Jason could swear there were seven when he counted yesterday. Now there’s nine.

He pulls the sleeve down and guides Peter’s hand back to his hair. Peter runs his fingers through it until his breathing slows and he falls asleep, and then it’s Jason lying there with his own thoughts for company, the sun setting a bit more with each passing hour. Jason is still in Peter’s arms when it sets completely; his eyes are open, looking at darkness.

ii.

“I’m just saying, you were a total dick tonight,” Peter says as he opens the door to their room and walks in first.

“And I’m just saying, you totally overreacted.” Jason sits on his bed and starts pulling on his shoelaces.

Apparently kissing Peter outside wasn’t enough to fix things between them, because the ride back to school was tense and awkward. Matt and Ivy kept glancing at Jason and Peter, who both sat rigidly in their seats and didn’t look at each other at all.

“We’re not going to be at school forever,” Peter says for what feels like the hundredth time.

“I _know_ that,” Jason replies, exasperated.

Jason doesn’t know how to put the fear that’s been festering inside him for weeks into words. As constricting as the rules in St. Cecilia’s are, at least there’s some sense in their familiar structure. He knows how to navigate this system and come out on top — he’s _good_ at it. What if he’s not good at navigating the system out there, in the real world?

What if, in the real world, there’s no system at all?

Peter’s sitting cross-legged on his own bed, which all of a sudden seems too far away. There’s an open book in his lap but his gaze stays unmoving. He looks small and defeated, and Jason feels the space between them acutely, like a chasm he doesn’t know how to cross. Next time they argue about this, he thinks, the chasm is only bound to grow.

Peter told him he loved him. Jason didn’t say anything.

“Hey. I’m sorry, okay?” he says now, because he figures it’s better than nothing.

Peter just shrugs.

iii.

If he could have it his way, Jason would make things stay almost exactly as they are. He’d freeze himself in a perfect moment and stay like this forever, stagnant but happy. Peter once accused him of secretly longing for children and white picket fences, but it’s Peter who isn’t satisfied with what they have now; it’s Peter who won’t stop thinking about the future, constantly planning for it, imagining all the ways in which it’ll be better than the present.

Jason is _sick_ of the future.

“It won’t be long now,” Peter is saying to Nadia as she complains angrily about rooming with Ivy again. “The whole reality of high school is that eventually _everything_ is going to change.”

Jason stares at the floor and keeps breathing.

iv.

Once upon a time, holding Peter’s hand was enough to make Jason forget about God.

It helped that touching Peter never felt like sinning. Every smile, every kiss they ever shared – Peter once said that they brought them closer to God, and Jason just shook his head. He thinks he knows what Peter meant, now, though.

He’s still not sure he agrees.

He thinks maybe it was true for Peter, but not him; maybe Peter was the one pulling them upwards this whole time, bringing them closer to God while Jason just hung on for dear life, trying not to look down, doomed to fail.

Jason is falling.

He tried so hard to have both, to both be the person he should have been and to be with Peter. Now, he is neither. Now, he’s _falling_.

 _If you really saw me_ , he realises with sudden and painful clarity, _you wouldn’t love me. The world wouldn’t love me._

He enters the church, shivering with cold, and makes his way to the confessional.

* * *

v.

still i recall the peace that would fall  
when i believed that you could forgive me

There is an astonishing number of gay bars in Edinburgh, and yet they make sure to visit every single one of them. They order cokes each time because they’re not 21 _yet_ , until Peter realises the legal drinking age is lower in Scotland and he bangs his head against Jason’s shoulder at their own stupidity while Jason laughs. Even then, they don’t go out with the intention of getting drunk. They’re after a different kind of high.

It’s the kind that comes from holding hands in public, and kissing out in the open, and gazing into each other’s eyes in the middle of the dance floor. It comes, in Jason’s words, from being a couple of cringy idiots.

“Speak for yourself,” Peter scoffs, his hand on Jason’s cheek. Jason grins.

So in the evenings they go out, and hold onto each other as they watch other queer people flirt and dance and cry around them. They spend their mornings procrastinating on getting out of bed, and on the weekends Peter drags Jason around the city, undeterred by the strong wind and cold weather.

They’re walking down High Street one day, looking for the perfect postcard to send Nadia, when suddenly it starts to pour, so they duck in to St. Giles’ Cathedral. Peter drops a few coins into the donation box because old habits die hard, and they stroll around from one beautiful stained-glass window to the next.

It feels like every other cathedral Jason’s ever been to, until Peter intertwines their fingers and then it doesn’t. Despite its grandeur, it feels welcoming, safe. Jason looks around and imagines how empty it would look at sunrise, how much more quiet and serene it would be.

“I actually like this one,” he murmurs in Peter’s ear and watches his eyes light up in response.

He rests his hand on the small of Peter’s back and guides them towards the seating area in the centre of the cathedral. And as they sit down, their eyes fixed on the luminous stained-glass window at the end of the hall, Jason draws Peter’s hand into his lap, clasping it between his palms. Though Peter is quiet beside him, Jason knows from his bowed head and closed eyes that he’s praying.

For the first time in months, Jason bows his head to join him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3
> 
> i'm on tumblr


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